


Incorporeal

by moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)



Series: Moth & Raven: Canon-Compliant [9]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Birth Control, F/M, First Time, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23620285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth
Summary: Trapped in the Tower's realm, Reyja and Julian share a couple of firsts.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Character(s)
Series: Moth & Raven: Canon-Compliant [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099187
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Incorporeal

Julian stares at his hands like he's never seen them before. My heart is still aglow for him though the little flicker of flame he produced vanished seconds ago.

"I… I just did magic, didn't I?"

I chuckle at his incredulity. "You sure did, Juley. And you did really well!"

His eyes flash to mine, surprise and delight mingled in equal measure. "D-did I do it right?"

I had worried about the same thing when I started casting spells. "There isn't really a right or a wrong way," I tell him. "We got the result we were trying for, and that's what counts. I'm so proud of you!"

He flushes. "Ha, I'm sure you're old hat at things like this."

"Actually, I'm not that great at fire stuff. Not my element. It took me a few months of working with Asra to do what you just did."

"Really?"

"Really. And it's not just because we're in the magical realms, I'm positive."

Julian swallows and risks a small smile. "You're too kind, my darling. I suppose… well, can I call myself a bonafide magician now?"

I can't resist teasing him just a little. "Don't you mean a 'majulian?'"

His laughter rings against the Tower's gloomy walls. He has such a bold, beautiful laugh, and the way it makes his eyes crinkle stirs the butterflies in my stomach. I shift so I'm sitting on the landing instead of knelt and wait for him to regain his power of speech, enjoying his presence and the moment of respite his success brought to all this chaos. 

"Oh, oh Reyja, you aren't going to let me live that one down, are you?" he finally wheezes.

He's so cute. "Not until you come up with another, better nickname."

The tenderness in his gaze sweeps my butterflies into even more frenzied spirals. "Ahhh, I'll leave that sort of thing to you, my dear. You've got the talent for it, whereas I, clearly, do not."

I find myself leaning towards him. He mirrors me, though whether it's subconscious or purposeful I can't say. "How do you figure?"

"Mmm. Just a feeling." His heavy-lidded eyes blink slowly as he scans my face.

We meet gently, softly, lips only just touching until one of us tests the other with a swipe of the tongue. Disregarding the makeshift arcane implements between us, Julian wraps his arms around me and hauls me into his lap, barely breaking our contact. He's panting and pink when I slide his jacket from his shoulders.

"Do you suppose you could reveal another magical trick or two?" he asks breathlessly, nuzzling the juncture of my neck. "For purely educational purposes, of course."

Several ideas tumble through my mind at once. But the press of his hands and the sensation of his mouth chase them away just as quickly. I have to scramble for a reply that make sense. "What do you want to learn?"

"Anything you want to teach."

I know he'll be enthusiastic about whatever I do, magic or not, but I really would like to show him something special. As I think, I catch sight of the scorch mark his flame left on our worksheet and a plan starts to crystallize. 

While I gather heat to my hands, gradually enough for him not to notice at first, I set about stripping his shirt off. He's already loosened most of the buttons so I have little to do but massage his broad, freckled shoulders. Before long, he twitches, cottoning on as my fingers blaze trails down his cool arms. He groans in appreciation and busies himself sucking grateful bruises into my throat. 

After a few minutes, I bend down to glide my tongue across his pectorals and he shivers, barely stifling a whimper when I divert my path to take one of his nipples between my teeth. I tickle the pebbled peak with the smallest of licks, then switch my attention to the other and give it the same treatment. His stomach rises and falls with his heaving breaths as I scratch my nails through the coarse russet curls that rage across his navel. He bucks into me when I give the thickest growth a tug.

"Darling!" Julian keens, throwing his head back. "Oh, Reyja…" 

When I look up into his face, the tumble of butterflies in my stomach turns to a cyclone. He's gorgeous, lips parted for air, cheeks blushed like rose petals.

I did that to him.

His mouth joins mine again before he draws me down to lay atop him on the cold Tower floor. Skin now slickened by sweat as well as my attention, he gleams in the sickly light that cuts through the fog outside.

"Reyja," he repeats, voice weak with arousal. "I— I know we haven't talked about this yet, but… Oh, god, I want you so badly, my love. So, so badly!"

He already has me. But I understand what he means as his hips shift.

I haven't purposefully stopped us from having sex yet, but I'm not prepared for it. I had no reason to explore options for preventing my monthly bleeding, and therefore any chance of getting pregnant, before he was around. I know they're there; hell, I sell some of the herbs at the shop. But those were for people with partners, or who could potentially get partners in the future. I never considered myself part of that group. 

It's not that I'm unwilling. Far from it, in fact. I would love nothing more than to feel his hard cock sink into me and thrust until he spills. I've seen him cum twice now, after all, and it's been perfect each time. But the idea of that release being the catalyst for a child to start growing inside me is both terrifying and disgusting, the absolute worst-case scenario I can imagine. As much as I want him, and have wanted him for a while now, I will not risk that. 

"Reyja?"

Oh. I've been quiet too long, stuck between desire and fear. Julian props himself up on one elbow and caresses my cheek with his other hand.

"Did I go too far? I'm so sorry, my dear. Forget I said—"

"No! No." I press his palm against my skin, banishing the heat from my own. "I want you too, Juley. It's just that, um…"

He _is_ a doctor. And he understands my hesitation immediately. 

"Of course. How foolish of me. Ahem, if I had my coat, we could… I, ah, I do keep a few spare sheaths in one of the inside pockets. Just in case." 

Now he tells me?

"But my coat is somewhat out of reach at the moment, isn't it?" He chuckles and kisses me lightly. "And I don't know that I could use one anyway, come to think of it, seeing as we seem to be a bit incorporeal in the real world."

He's right. We have no bodies here, and though I can feel him beneath me, he isn't quite as solid as he should be.

Wait. That reminds me of an explanation Asra gave a long time ago, in one of the brief discussions we had about the magical realms.

"I just remembered something."

Julian cocks his head.

"What you said. I mean, we're not spirits, but… here. Feel my arm."

I hold out my wrist and he takes it, but he doesn't seem to understand what I'm getting at.

"Can you tell that I'm not, like, real? There's resistance, for sure, but it feels different than if you were to touch me back at the palace."

"Right…" he says hesitantly. "And when I tried to give Pasha a hug, I went right through her. Is that what you mean?"

"Exactly! I think we can only interact because we're both in the same boat. Because these aren't our bodies. They look like us and feel like us, but..."

Julian brings my hand to his lips, pressing sweet kisses to each knuckle as he ponders the implications. "It's like seeing a reflection in a mirror," he offers after a moment. "The reflection is you, but it isn't. Your body, the thing being reflected, is separate and distinct. So these forms, are they reflections of us?"

I nod. "In some way, yeah. Asra didn't tell me much about the magical realms. That would fit what I do know, though. Like, when we came here to find the Hanged Man, you got all scratched up by those vines, but your skin was fine after we got back."

He blushes and licks his lips, clearly remembering how he got those scratches in the first place. Part of me smirks: we didn't even get to the fun then, but maybe we can remedy that now.

"Your reflection might get up to a lot of things when you're not in front of a mirror," I continue. "There's no way to prove that it doesn't, without physical evidence. And I don't think this place is capable of affecting our actual bodies, since they're not even here."

He hums thoughtfully. "Yes, I see! Well, it's your decision, my dearest. I wouldn't and won't pressure you to— mmph!"

My feverish kiss cuts him off. I curl myself around him, fingers twined in his hair to bring his face to mine. It's rising beyond a want now: I _need_ him. I need to touch him, feel him inside me. I need him to know how much I love him. 

"Julian…" I murmur, heart pounding. "Please."

He pulls away just enough to look into my eyes. "Yes, darling. I… I wish I could promise that I won't lose myself, but, a-ha, if my record with you is any indication, I won't be able to pull out in time."

"Don't worry about it."

"Oh, but I am worried. The last thing I want is to hurt you, or, or, or tie you to me in such an irrevocable way, if that's not what you think of when you think about us."

I sit back on his lap and study him. He's still flushed, but it's starting to die down as his brow furrows with concern, and the sound of his mind racing, jumping to distant conclusions, is nearly audible in the thump of his heart.

"It isn't," I admit. "I _really_ don't want to get... Ever. It's one of my biggest fears, actually. Plus, I'm, um, not great with kids. At all." I shudder.

"Then perhaps we should wait, just to be on the safe—"

"We will be safe here."

"Are you sure? Absolutely, without-a-doubt certain? Because I don't mind, truly. In fact, I think—"

Even with a solid hypothesis, he's scared. And I don't blame him: magic is mutable at the best of times, and I don't think he's been around it long enough to trust it yet. But I have. Maybe my judgement is clouded by desire, but my proof feels just as satisfactory as the crack of the brick landing in front of us after he threw it down the staircase. "Do you want to fuck me, Julian?"

He almost gasps. Blood rushes to his cheeks again… and his cock. I feel it as, having softened to half-mast, it begins to stiffen with renewed interest.

"Yes," he breathes. "Yes, that— More than I've wanted anything in a long time, Reyja, yes! I would very, very much like to, ahem, make love to you."

I smile and push him to the ground once more, pinning his shoulders. "Which one is it? I understand there's quite a difference between fucking and making love."

"Oh, I want to do it all! I want to make you writhe with pleasure. I want to smell you and taste you and bury myself in you. If I could, I would know nothing but you until the day I die!"

He strains, arching his spine to drive his hips into mine, then flops back to the stone beneath us. He's one long line of tension. 

But I know how to release it.

"Let's do it, then."

He doesn't argue again. We clash together, more tooth than lip, our desire boiling over into something hotter than my hands or even the magical flame he summoned. I make quick work of his trousers; his cock is hard, heavy, curved up onto his abdomen and already leaking precum by the time I free it.

It's gorgeous.

"H-how— where do you want me, my dearest?" he stammers. 

I'm at a loss. Whenever I imagined losing my virginity, it was abstract, distant. Impossible. He's the expert here, not me.

I tell him so.

"Ha, as flattered as I am by that, you'll find I'm much better suited to, erm, to receiving orders than giving them. Far from perfect, I'm afraid."

"You don't need to be perfect with me."

"Oh, darling!"

We kiss again, long and tender. He sits up slowly, cradling me close, then takes a deep breath and turns us around to lay me where he just was. I settle to the floor and gaze at him through hooded eyes.

"Is this alright?" he asks, looking me over after rearranging my skirt to bare my stomach.

His discarded jacket and shirt cushion me well enough. I nod.

"Good, good. Erm, I don't know if you— how well you— This could hurt, sweetheart. Well, not hurt exactly, but be a bit uncomfortable at first."

He crouches between my legs, rubbing my thighs with his lip between his teeth. I think he's more nervous about this than I am.

"I know," I say simply. I've done more than a little exploration of my own body, after all.

"You’ll tell me if it's too much? Or if I'm resting on you too hard, or if I need to slow down, or—?"

"Yes. I trust you, Juley."

He looks at me pleadingly. Beneath that, though, he brightens. Some of his confidence returns as he kisses my temple and the tip of my nose. Minutely, kiss by kiss, he relaxes.

"You do trust me, don't you?"

"You've more than earned it. Now…" I trail off deliberately, eyeing him until he shudders and squeezes my hips in excitement. "Julian Devorak, will you please put your cock in me?"

That beautiful laughter rolls out of him again, colored by the hitch in his breath. "When you ask so nicely, how could I possibly refuse?" He grins, then reaches down to position himself. The taper of his cockhead feels divine, parting me and sliding inside...

And then he stops, barely sheathed. I whine without meaning to. It doesn't even hurt yet—

He sinks in just a little further and a ring of pain blossoms around my entrance. The stretch, the burn… it's certainly in the same family as what I've experienced before, but I've never felt anything so hot, so stiff yet so pliant. Julian adjusts his angle and cups my cheek before pushing forward again.

All at once, the hurt vanishes. His pelvis is flush against mine and he’s hovering anxiously above me.

“Are you alright?" he asks. "How does this feel?”

In answer, I wrap my legs around him and pull him even closer. He lets out his breath in a huff of surprise but can’t keep his eyes from rolling as pleasure surges through him. He thrusts tentatively once, twice, then sets a steady rhythm, leaning down to nestle his head under my chin. We move together, sharing frantic kisses and praise as, gradually, his strokes get sloppier and the beat of his body against mine stutters.

“D-darling, Reyja, I’m so sorry but, mm, I won’t last much longer. You feel too good, I… Has it— Have I— It’s been good for you too? Worth it?”

On my own, my arm gets tired long before I near a climax so I usually give up and focus on my clit instead. But this, the slide of his cock and his weight atop me, the scent of him so close… this is incredible. I understand, I think, why people lose their minds over it. I kiss him soundly in answer. 

His smile is so genuine, so relieved. It melts my heart to know that this man wants me as much as I want him. If I’m lucky, if we’re both lucky, I’ll have that smile for the rest of my life.

Julian rests his forehead against mine and, with effort, pauses the rut of his hips. I swallow a pitiful mewl of loss as the sensation fades, not far from the surface but gone temporarily dormant. 

“Thank you for this, my dearest. That you would allow me to be your first is, well. It means a lot to me. _You_ mean a lot to me.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but I hear it like a declaration from the palace rooftop.

Without waiting for a response, he picks up his pace again. Shifting his weight to one arm, he puts his other hand between us, where we’re joined. I’m washed away by the flood of pleasure that accompanies his touch. The noise I make and the contraction of my walls around him urge him to his finish moments later, but he works me even as he spills and I follow close on his heels.

When he’s done, and I’m done, and the only sound left clinging to the Tower’s endless staircase is our ragged breathing, Julian sags into the comfort of my belly, sighing contentedly. He holds me close, listening to my heartbeat slow, occasionally dropping a small kiss to my neck or my sternum. I let my hands wander over the planes of his face and into his hair. As he softens and slips out of me, he repositions himself to rest his chin on my chest and look into my eyes.

“You're so beautiful. Amazing, even,” he murmurs.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t need to.”

We rest in silence for another minute or two before Julian clears his throat and rises to a kneel. I make to sit up as well, but he shakes his head and looks around. I don’t know what he’s searching for until he grabs his shirt and parts my thighs to clean me up. 

“I won’t commend that as my finest performance,” he says as he wipes his spend away. 

“Will you leave that to me?”

“Oh, my darling, you have no idea.” I’m chastened until he laughs heartily and kisses each of my knees in turn. “One day, ideally not too far from now, I’ll show you everything I’ve learned about pleasure. And I've learned a lot, if I do say so myself. I hope… no, I _know_ that my finest performance is yet to come, and it will be because of you.”

He’s so dramatic. I love it. And I love—

“Reyja?” Between my legs, he’s gone still. When I check on him, he’s looking at me the way some people look at art, or ocean vistas, or the facades of grand temples they’ve only read about. He’s looking at me like I’m his whole world. “Reyja, I… I want to tell you that I’ve never felt anything like—”

A bone-rattling crack of thunder interrupts him, barely preceded by crimson lightning that slashes across his face like a scar. He lunges to cover me, sweeping me into a tight embrace as he flattens us to the floor. Outside, the fog has turned to smoke. The acrid scent of it, mixed with something foul and bloody I don’t want to know the source of, sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end.

We share a glance and help each other stand once the lightning fades. We’ve lingered here too long, and the Devil has tracked us down. We need to leave. Now. 

“You have our stuff?” I ask.

He nudges his clothes and the things we used to conjure the magical flame into a messy bundle at his feet. He’s trembling, but there’s determination in his gaze as it meets mine. “Yes. How can I help?”

Thinking quickly, I decide to try for the most disruptive thing we could do: if this doesn't work, nothing will. “Take my hands; we’re gonna break out of here, okay? I’ll guide the spell but it’ll feel weird, because it’s going to use a lot of magic. Yours and mine both.”

“It’s a day of firsts, isn’t it?”

I can’t believe he just made me laugh when our lives are on the line.

He squeezes my hands and nods sharply. “I’m ready.”

We can do this. We're stronger together. “Okay. On three…”

_One._

_Two._


End file.
